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Zack always had to hold his nose whenever he went into Reno’s place because frankly, the whole apartment smelt like an ash tray. It wasn’t that the infamous redhead smoked as much as some would lead you to believe; just he had an annoying habit of puffing his little cancer sticks inside rather than out. The one time Zack asked why he got told to go back to the barracks if he preferred the smell of sex, sweat and body odor to Reno’s highly personalized own scent and that Reno could see him wedging open that window, y’know, if it looked like he hated it so much then Reno just might light up another on the spot just to spite him.

Which was harsh. Still, Zack knew that a lot of Reno said was on false pretence, that Reno only joked so extremely with him because he knew the Soldier wouldn’t take much the wrong way and if he did, wouldn’t bust him a fat one or crawl into a metaphorical hole and die like others.

There’d been lots of others, Zack had come to accept. He kind of had to, dating someone as sexually active as Reno—oftentimes he’d wind up at the apartment and with his enhanced Soldier-senses smell someone else’s bad cologne on the pillow, and feel a little sad but understand, be happy that Reno respected his intelligence enough to keep it open; they had a running joke of reactions between them that one day Zack’d wake up and find one of Reno’s other partners cuddling him up in the side of the bed next to him instead of Reno.

Which made Zack think that Reno sometimes missed the neutrality of one night stands, what it meant that he didn’t constantly have to worry about enemies and even fellow Turks having dirt on him because of his relationship. So he often rebuked the redhead on a reminder that he was a big Soldier who could take care of himself, and Reno would comeback with something to the point of if he could so easily take care of himself that there was no need for Reno to stick around but for want of better jack off, which was harsh times two.

Thus Zack entered the apartment with a groan and a hand to his nose and a remembrance, removing it and his hand as he plopped onto the couch, gradually becoming accustomed to the smell and thinking about how badly he must’ve stank anyway before his private sparring session (cheap cologne), he reflected.

It was a bit like pepper spray, the smoke: at least Reno didn’t have to worry about self defense was it he the one to wake up next to a horrified Angeal ever a Monday morning.